Today I sat down with my literary agent (Alan), a man I affectionately refer to as Ari Gold (you Entourage folks will understand). A man my father calls the Centa Man, because he does the work of 100 men.

We gathered to talk about my next book, a YA novel, we’re in the process of finding a good and worthy home. On a National Park road trip, he brought his travel companion to our breakfast meeting, a retired doctor from Alan’s hometown of Portland. This chance encounter with a beautiful man, ended in hugs and a deep connection. The doctor was intrigued by my story, my ailments, and my commitment to nutrition and fitness in the face of day to day pain and fatigue.

As a doctor, he got it. When he heard about my thick blood and clotting disorder, and my brush with eternity a few Christmases ago, he, like so many doctors said, “You’re lucky to be alive. Statistically you probably shouldn’t be here.” I didn’t win the genetic lottery when I was born, but I did win the crazy diagnosis challenge of AS, Factor V, achilles enthesopathy, poorly shaped hips, and an affinity for concussions and subsequently, chronic migraines.

When I was twenty four, I told my doctor, “I don’t remember what it’s like to feel good.” Many AS warriors (thank you @jessiseppathompson) can relate, I’m not alone. Pain is and has been a part of my daily life and training sessions for as long as I can remember. I suppose in some twisted way, pain has always been a friend.

I don’t share any of this to make anyone feel sorry for me, or to minimize the struggle and hardships of others, because my hardship, doesn’t diminish yours. There are no comparisons in this regard. It’s all about perspective, and what’s a bad day in the saddle for me, might be debilitating to someone else. What brings me to my knees, might be a speed bump to another.

What’s my point on this rant? Try not to minimize the hardship of others, especially physical and emotional hardship, because no matter how hard we try to put ourselves in the shoes of others, we can’t feel their pain, their depression, their loss, their struggle. But we sure as hell can try. That to me is what friendship looks like. We validate, we reassure, we lean in, and we try.

With nothin’ but love, mwl